


The Cadence of the Stars

by Lunareytauriel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drama, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Gen, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Rivalry, M/M, Multi, OC is kind of a sociopath, Other, Power Play, Powerful OC, Regulus has a daughter, Slytherin Pride, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Wandless Magic (Harry Potter), accidental magic, orphaned at a young age
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:07:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28109805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunareytauriel/pseuds/Lunareytauriel
Summary: A tragic moment of desperate love left Regulus Black with a daughter. A daughter whose power was evident from the very moment of her birth. This is the tale of Alhena Saiph Black.And of course this story could be one of truth, family, and love; one that you would be happy to retell. A story not of aforementioned woe, but one of joy and the miasma that is life; but surely I tell you.. how truly boring that would be.
Kudos: 6





	1. Introduction

“ I feel my soul as vast as the world, truly a soul as deep as the deepest of rivers; my chest has the power to expand to infinity. I was made to give and they prescribe for me the humility of the cripple.”  
-Frantz Fanon, Black Skin, White Masks

FAIR WARNING: This story changes the timeline a bit with Regulus betraying Voldemort around 1981 instead of 1979.

REGULUS had a child. A seemingly insignificant affair led to its creation. Quite the bitter situation in all of its twisted woe. She was doomed from the start. Detested at the very beginning. With her first cry into the war torn wizarding world she was deemed a tragedy. Her mother was a socialite woman with Platinum locks, a Parisian accent, and a long fettered claim to Veela heritage. The shine in her eyes momentarily entranced the youngest Black heir and when she did not seek to return his affections, the potion he slipped her every morning entranced her well enough. Another tragic tale that ended before it had even begun. They were a striking couple. Heads turned when they entered and all the pureblood families of the sacred 28 looked on with bored approval. She was a pureblood, a powerful witch with known connections to French wizarding royalty. He was a pureblood and heir to the noble house of Black, a prominent follower of the Dark Lord Voldemort. Their relationship had begun in war and so it had ended. The woman, whose name is unimportant, was oblivious to all that happened outside of the daily potion she took. Regulus, seeing the effect the potion had made on her once vibrant soul, stopped giving it to her. By then it had been too late. Without the potion she had become an echo of her former self. Not even the joy of a child could bring her back. She was sane for a few months of the baby’s life until she took another, much different potion to ease her suffering. In the end it had been the child and his blatant disregard for his dearest house elf Kreacher that persuaded Regulus Black to betray his master. For it had been Voldemort that had whispered the idea of drugging his unrequited love. After she was gone and Kreacher mortally wounded, Regulus began to see the sinister truth behind the Dark Lord’s cunning. On the day of his death his very last thought had been that of his one and only heir, Alhena Saiph Black.

DRUELLA BLACK WAS NEVER CRUEL, she was only determined to show Alhena the benefits of subduing one’s peskier emotions. A perfect example of said emotions being happiness. Not that the child often experienced it’s warm glow.

“Alhena, child, you must show me again. Now, and make haste. As a child of the most noble house of Black a certain modicum of dignity is expected of you.” Alhena observed her great aunt’s weathered face. The elder black might have once been beautiful, concluded Alhena, but now the effects of time and life had begun to show.

Alhena was standing upright in front of her great aunt, her heavy platinum locks flowing gently down her young form. Her head bowed in respect. Druella Black sat serenely in a chair older than the both of them, yet nonetheless priceless and ornate.

The young black mistress was no stranger to lessons from her great aunt. Mostly centered around manners and the proper behavior of young pureblood witches. Her great aunt took special care in showing her young charge just what it took to survive in the society she had been born into. Now, at 10 and a half years old, young Alhena was a shining beacon of propriety and elegance. Her childlike features only added to her angelic charm. Most, when met with the young Black, were astonished by her easy charm. Though most would never know of the cold spirit held within. Alhena was truly cunning and quick witted, her mind processed information quickly while her emotions were almost nonexistent. She never cried nor complained, there were times when she asked questions but they were always met with a scowl and a pertinent reminder that all children were meant to be seen and not heard. Alhena soon learned if she wanted answers she would have to find them for herself, and find them she did.

Today was another lesson or, as one might more accurately call it, review on manners and expected behavior of a pureblood child in the Sacred 28. Alhena leveled her gaze to the tip of her great aunt’s pointed nose whilst simultaneously crossing her right leg over her left and dipping low into a graceful curtsy.

“That will do for now, child.” Aunt Druella spoke through a pinched smile. Alhena knew it was perfect and knew although her Aunt showed no real outward sign of her approval, she was more than satisfied with her grand niece’s performance. She also knew her lesson for the day was nowhere near over. So, Alhena relaxed her posture from her bow and awaited the next challenge.

“Recite to me the motto of our noble house.” Commanded her aunt. The rasp in her ancient voice more pronounced as it rang around the bookshelves lining the tall walls.

“Toujours pur” said Alhena, with a confidence belying her age.

“Meaning?”

“Always pure, Aunt Druella.” the young Black almost sang the words as they so readily slipped from her mind and onto her tongue.

“Very true, my dear.” Aunt Druella gifted her younger counterpart with another smile, “Always true.”

This time, her younger counterpart smiled back.


	2. One

"Curiosity is not a sin, but we should exercise caution with our curiosity."  
-Albus Dumbledore

RAIN FELL steadily from the dismal London sky. Alhena was never impressed with the outside appearance of her father’s childhood home. The Black Lodge was a real testament to the greatness expected from the noble house of Black. This… this place was simply… disappointing. 

The death of Alhena’s great grandfather Arcturus brought her to the place of her father’s childhood. Alhena had never met the man, but she knew him to be just as prejudiced as the rest of the Sacred 28 clan. Aunt Druella apparated them to the front of the house, Uncle Cygnus was unable to attend due to his age and declining health. Druella told grandmother Walburga as much when they walked into the house. 

12 Grimmauld Place was packed with different members of pureblood society. Alhena was used to their grand gatherings and balls so she was not afraid to be in their midst. There were the Malfoys, Prewetts, Rosiers, Carrows, Crabbes, Goyles, and others that Alhena could not identify. She spotted Draco standing next to Narcissa and moved to join him until she felt a hand on her shoulder stop her. Alhena turned to stare into the eyes of her Grandmother, Walburga Black. Grandmother Walburga was very old; at least physically. The skin under her eyes sagged deeply into her cheekbones. Her cheeks were wrinkled and looked almost paper thin to Alhena’s eyes. Alhena thought she was much too old looking for her actual age. Maybe that was why she didn't want to take on the burden that was her granddaughter.

Walburga’s shaking hands came up to either side of Elhena’s face as she cupped her cheeks, “Now child let me have a look at you.” She turned Elhena’s head this way and that as if she were looking for any imperfections. “You certainly have your father’s eyes. My Regulus… such a good boy. That hair you get from your weak mother, no doubt. A shame too. She never was very pretty, that woman.” Walburga’s black eyes narrowed as she dropped her hands. “She was useless and couldn't truly appreciate all that Regulus could give.”

Elhena felt a slow burning feeling begin to build in the pit of her belly. She didn't know what to think of her reaction or of what her grandmother was saying. Whenever her mother had been mentioned in the past Aunt Druella would look distant and uncomfortable and quickly change the subject or tell Elhena to be quiet. Even though Elhena had never met her mother, she still felt a small sense of defensiveness for the woman. Maybe it was because she would like to have known the love of a mother. Either way, the young Black was slowly starting to become enraged by her grandmother’s blatant disregard for the memory of her mother.

“If she had been the wife and mother she should have been, my Regulus might still be here today.”

The rage in Elhena’s gut built to a steady crescendo

CRASH

The urn on the grand mantle in the center of the room exploded into shards of porcelain and ash. Amycus Carrow cursed as a shard caught his cheek. 

Silence fell across the room as every head whipped to where little Elhena stood. Her eyes widened in shock at the accidental magic that burst from her veins so violently. The remains of Arcturus Black lay scattered on the floor. Later, Elhena would remember this moment as the beginning of her infamy. 

Elhena sat alone on the stairs that led to the upper level of the house after Druella had pulled Elhena into the kitchen to lecture her on control. She could hear the steady thrum of conversation that flowed from under the closed door across from where she sat. They were probably talking about her, she knew. Accidental magic was unavoidable, but that kind of display would no doubt earn her some degree of gossip. Especially considering the injury Amycus Carrow sustained. She saw the glare he gave her as she was pushed from the room and knew that sometime in the future he would return the favor.

“Oi dragoooon breeeeaaath” Draco sang from behind her, laughing at the annoyed expression that showed on her face. She noted that Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise were there too as she turned around to better see Draco. Of course they would come to tease her, Elhena thought, they couldn’t just allow her one moment of peace. 

“Accidental magic, eh dragon breath?” teased Draco, “I haven’t seen an outburst like that since our dear Blaise was in nappies.” The young Malfoy and his entourage laughed again at her expense. Blaise, to his credit, did not seem as amused as the rest. His eyes searched Elhena’s face for the remains of emotion that had caused her to lose control.

“You alright there, Black?”

“I’m brilliant.” Elhena answered Blaise with a forced smile. They didn’t need to know that she could still feel her magic buzzing in her mind and fingertips. It almost felt like it was urging her to finish what she had started; to get revenge or maybe even to punish. Elhena recognized those thoughts for what they were. Immature and reckless and bound to get her locked up in the Black Lodge till the first day of Hogwarts. Better to kick the boys out of her personal space before her anger found a new target.

“Sod off, Malfoy. I’m trying to enjoy a moment… alone.” She said the last part pointedly as she met the eyes of each boy. 

Draco rolled his blue eyes and raised a hand to pick imaginary lint off of his fine dress robes. Crabbe and Goyle, ever the mindless henchman, waited patiently for Draco’s next order. A couple tense minutes passed as the young Malfoy pretended to ponder her words.

“Fine” Draco conceded, “come with me gentlemen, I know exactly where they keep the good sweets.” 

Draco led the boys past her down the stairs and into another corridor that led to the kitchen. Elhena sighed loudly in contempt. Draco had always been a nuisance. Every event that Elhena was compelled to attend somehow always included the brute. She didn’t care that he was older than her or that, for some reason, everyone seemed to agree they would someday marry. The truth was, Elhena didn’t mind him when his attention was elsewhere, as long as his attention remained elsewhere. 

With the gathering still in full swing, Elhena decided to explore the upper level of the house. The lights were dimmer upstairs and a draft seemed to sprout from the darkest corners of the staircase. The stair railing was chilly on her fingers as she ascended the stairs. The further she climbed, the louder the stuffy silence of the upstairs became. What an interesting place, she thought, to be so full of things yet so empty of life. At the top of the stairs sat a dark wooden table with a glass bowl containing small orbs the size of Elhena’s palm. The orbs were different types of dark colors. 

Elhena went to reach for one when she was suddenly startled by a rustling noise to her left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! Just a little cliffhanger to keep the intrigue fresh. Please comment what you think of the story so far. Constructive criticism is very much appreciated!


End file.
